


Icarus

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dissociation, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:26:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23080918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dissociation caused him to float, higher and higher until nothing could bring him back down to earth but pain.
Kudos: 13
Collections: anonymous





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> I am officially sorry to anyone who stumbles across this.

The red spiralling down his arms felt like heaven and hell to him. He was free as the rush of blood began until it slowed and he was brought back down to earth and the shame of doing something so... unsightly came over him. But then he did it again, just to feel that freedom for a moment, like Icarus climbing higher and higher, closer and closer to the sun, only to fall like a rock into the choppy waves below. 

He guessed that he was as selfish as Icarus, choosing to ignore everyone around him - their issues, their lives - to instead pity himself and do as he pleased. 

Some nights dragged on and never seemed to stop until he broke his skin under metal or glass. He would drift off into space without any grounding, without the tight, too small boxers digging into his waist or the tall socks digging into his shins. He would spiral away, up and up and up and up and up, until he burst like a balloon and fell back to the ground.

When he woke up from these episodes it was commonly to an injury, the quickest method to bring him back down with little effort, something he could do even if he was ten million miles away from his body.

It wasn't an issue he had, it was just an aspect of life that he had to live with, that with being alive, this pain would come to stop him from leaving his body and not being alive anymore.

But he knew that one day, he may fly too high, cut a little too deep or constrict his limbs a bit too much and then he'd fall, like Icarus and crash into the roiling waves beneath where he'd be consumed and there would be no body for him to return to. So he would be gone.

Until then, he would hide it, remain perfect, in the same way that porcelain cracks but remains there, fragile and broken but still standing. 

He would remain.


End file.
